


No Man (or Woman) is an Island

by jdale



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Ending, Character Death Fix, Elizabeth Weir POV, Episode: s03e20 First Strike, F/M, Flashbacks, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 22:08:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18019370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdale/pseuds/jdale
Summary: Everyone has their moments of weakness. Over the years, Elizabeth Weir had become very good at hiding hers. Now, though, she wondered whether learning to do so had been a mistake.





	No Man (or Woman) is an Island

**Author's Note:**

> In the scene in "First Strike" of Atlantis taking off from Lantea, it has always bugged me how long everyone in the control room spends standing around staring out the window even after it appears based on the exterior shots that Atlantis has achieved a stable climb. What makes it even worse is that, again based on the exterior shots, once they finally do start raising the shield, it doesn't appear to have a significant effect on the city's rate of ascent. I can't help but think they could have gotten the shield up in time had someone been on the ball instead of everyone being mesmerized by the view.
> 
> Some lines taken directly from SGA 03x20 "First Strike."

_“It’s not working,”_ John’s voice came over the radio.

“What are you doing wrong?” McKay asked him, sliding his chair over to check the readout on another console.

_“Sure, blame me. We don’t have enough power.”_

McKay rolled his eyes. “Oh, sure, blame _me_.”

_“It’s not working. What other reasons could there be?”_

“I have no more power to give you,” McKay said as if he thought John didn’t already know that.

_Oh, get over yourselves,_ Elizabeth thought. “Shut it off,” she told McKay.

McKay looked at her quizzically. “What?”

“Lower the shield,” Elizabeth explained.

“We’re about to go into _space_. If you plan on breathing, we’re gonna need the shield,” McKay shot back in his compared-to-me-you-have-the-intelligence-of-a-five-year-old-and-I-will-treat-you-as-such voice.

_“Turn it back on once we’ve built up some momentum,”_ John suggested. _“We just need the boost to get started, no?”_

McKay’s eyes widened. “That might work,” he muttered to himself, turning back to his console.

Elizabeth watched with bated breath as he worked at the console, hoping against hope that this team and this city could summon up just enough magic to pull itself out of the fire one more time.

“Okay, I did it! Give it all you’ve got!” McKay instructed.

The city rumbled beneath them as John began to pour power into the stardrive. Everyone in the control room looked at McKay for some indication of whether their attempts were meeting with success.

“That’s it,” he breathed in amazement. “We’re flying!”

With a smile, Elizabeth turned and began to wander over toward the window, Ronon and Teyla trailing behind at a distance. She was dimly aware of John’s voice on the radio telling Rodney that they had reached escape velocity and could bring the shield back up but left the execution in their capable hands, wanting one last look at the majestic ocean they were about to leave behind.

She wasn’t sure whether she saw that the asteroid was no longer covering them or heard McKay shout a warning; suddenly she just _knew_. Snatches of memories flashed unbidden into her mind. Panic at Kolya’s fingernails digging into her stomach as he prepared to drag her through the gate as a hostage; anger and frustration when she realized there was no other choice but to let John fly the bomb-laden Jumper himself; fear and confusion when she woke up in a mental hospital and was told Atlantis was a mere figment of her imagination; hatred and rage as she was forced to watch one of their most bitter enemies let another drain John’s life away little by little.

Panic seized her when her legs refused to respond to her brain’s command to turn and run. The memories just kept flooding back. Sorrow and regret when John sacrificed himself to give the rest of them a fighting chance; doubt and self-loathing when Kolya told the Wraith to take its fill; helplessness to stop Phoebus’ vengeful rampage through the city; fear of what Kolya might do to her on the other side of the wormhole.

An intense wave of relief washed over her as the shield closed the last few inches necessary to intercept the beam shy of its target. _And not a moment too soon,_ she thought as she slowly sank to the floor. John’s report that he was taking the city into hyperspace barely registered in her mind as the realization of just how close they had come to disaster began to set in. Had the asteroid been just a little smaller…had the shield been closing just a little slower…had Rodney insisted on waiting until the last possible moment to raise the shield instead of trusting John’s assessment that they had gotten enough of a boost to clear orbit…

“Dr. Weir? Dr. Weir, are you well?” Teyla’s voice had finally managed to cut through the mental haze.

“How long until we reach…our destination?” Elizabeth asked, not bothering to remember the planet’s designation.

“Depending on the exact power consumption, we’re looking at probably somewhere in the four- to six-hour range,” she heard McKay’s voice from somewhere behind her.

“I trust you and Colonel Sheppard can handle the atmospheric descent and landing?”

McKay faltered. “Well, yes, but—”

“Good,” Elizabeth sighed, heaving herself to her feet. “I’ll be in my quarters resting if anything comes up.”

“Would you like someone to accompany you, Doctor?” Teyla offered.

“Just…long enough to, ah, get me there. Uh, thank you, Teyla,” Elizabeth replied, gripping Teyla’s hand to steady herself.

Anything Teyla might have said in response as she guided Elizabeth toward the transporter booth was lost in the fog as Elizabeth found herself unable to concentrate on anything but the fact that had the shield slid into place even a split-second later, she and everyone in the control room would probably be dead.

* * *

The late-evening sun on their new planet was just disappearing beneath the horizon when Elizabeth woke. It was strange, she mused. On the one hand, it felt like she had spent days frozen by recollection as the satellite’s beam bore down on them, even though she knew intellectually it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds. At the same time, however, it seemed to her as if she had fallen asleep only a moment ago, despite the fact that in that time they had completed a journey Rodney had said would take at least four hours.

John’s voice in the doorway drew her out of her thoughts, at least for now, and she nodded weakly at his request to enter.

“Teyla said you were pretty badly shaken up when we made our escape,” John told her, coming over to sit beside her on the bed. “She’s worried about you, Lizbeth. We all are.”

Elizabeth looked down at her clasped hands. “I almost died, John. Everyone in that control room was a half-second away from dying. I know you go out there and face it every day, but for a civilian like me who’s in a position that normally keeps them out of the line of fire, to be suddenly confronted with your own mortality…”

“It’s forced you to do some soul-searching,” John finished.

“You know how they say no man is an island?” Elizabeth asked rhetorically.

He nodded. “John Donne.”

The corner of her mouth twitched slightly. “Yeah. Well, no woman is an island either…and I’m coming to realize that’s what I’ve spent the past three years trying to be. I’ve focused so much on the needs of this city and my responsibilities as its leader that I’ve been neglecting my own personal needs. I cut myself off from any sort of personal companionship because I thought it would compromise my ability to lead…and instead, it wound up doing exactly what I was trying to prevent. I don’t know how much longer I can bear this burden before it crushes me, John. I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

John hummed thoughtfully. “Well, I’m no psychiatrist, but I think Teyla might be able to help you work through some of this. She’s the leader of her people just like you are, you both seem to have a lot of things in common, and I’m sure she’s had to deal with some of the same issues you seem to be going through.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, but…” Elizabeth hesitated. Her brain was screaming at her that this was _wrong_ , that now was hardly the time, that the IOA would have her head if she did…while at the same time, every fiber of her being screamed back just as loudly that this couldn’t possibly be wrong when it felt _so right_ , that now had to be the time because she might not get another chance, that the IOA would probably have her head even if she didn’t, and besides, she had been thinking about resigning in protest anyway…

Then she remembered it was her brain that had gotten her into this mess in the first place. “…that wasn’t what I meant. I love you, John.”

John’s head turned to look at her with a bug-eyed expression, and he blinked a few times as if struggling to process the revelation. More and more of Elizabeth’s insecurities and fear of rejection began to bubble to the surface as the silence stretched on. _What if he’s not interested in me that way? What if he can’t see me as anything other than his boss? What if he’s not willing to take the risk? Oh no, what if he’s already—_

Then his face broke into that wide smile that never failed to brighten the day of anyone lucky enough to see it, and he leaned down to give her a gentle kiss on the forehead.

“I love you, too, Lizbeth,” he whispered, taking her hand in his and drawing circles on it with his thumb.

Elizabeth found the motion quite soothing and soon began to slip in and out of awareness. Then she felt him pick up her hand and set it on her stomach, and when she opened her eyes again, she saw him stand and begin to walk to the door.

“Wait!” she cried out. He turned back to face her. “John, don’t go.”

His expression changed to one of concern. “Lizbeth, I don’t want to take advantage—”

“No, no, nothing like that,” she assured him. “Just…just let me hold you…so I know this is real…please?”

His face momentarily took on the same bug-eyed stare as when she had initially confessed her love, but it was quickly replaced by a half-smile, although his eyes still held a hint of trepidation. “Yeah, I can do that,” he said, sitting back down on the edge of the bed to remove his boots.

Once he had removed his boots and crawled into bed beside her, she pulled him into her embrace and buried her head in the crook of his neck, taking a deep breath and allowing his scent to fill her nostrils.

“Sweet dreams, Lizbeth,” John murmured into her hair.

“G’night, John,” she mumbled back, her eyelids now feeling quite heavy.

She had no idea whether she would choose to remain leader of Atlantis even if the IOA was willing to allow it; that was a decision to be made in the morning, when clearer heads could prevail. What she did know was that John Sheppard was _hers_ , and no bureaucrat could take that away from her.

A contented sigh escaped Elizabeth’s lips as she drifted off to sleep.


End file.
